Emma: The Complete First Season? Er, Just Read
by evolo
Summary: Oh, bugger it. Read the freaking thing, for lack of a better title. Emma and Co. go through life, from senior year of high school to Judgement Day. WE KNOW IT'S COMING!
1. Information YOU MUST KNOW NOW

**Disclaimer: It's…not mine…? Kudos to BKC Productions, and to the creators of _Guys and Dolls._**

**Rating: PG-13, 14A. Regular _Friends _episode. I mean, if you can watch _Friends_, you can read this.**

**Summary: I know, it's another "Older Emma!" fic. Well…so sue me. Everyone must wonder what happens in her life. This explores the years from age 15 to…I don't know. Whenever you beg and plead for me to stop because you can't take it anymore, or it's just THAT horrible.**

**I really don't want to slowly introduce things to the story as we go. I just…really want people to know these characters and stuff NOW! So learn them!**

The Original Six

Rachel: Was with Ross for two years after the finale before they got engaged. They married just before Emma began school. Rachel still has the same job, but a new assistant who has a crush on her.

Ross: Married to Rachel (…um…duh) and guess what! They're not divorced! Perhaps the curse has broken! Yeah…well, he finally can get along with Susan, even when Carol's not making them.

Monica: Despite so many people (the editor's of our newspaper, for example) hoping and wishing and praying that the "Mondler" marriage would fail—OK, they're still HAPPILY married. And no one is allowed to drive the Porsche but her.

Chandler: He really hasn't changed. Really. Why would we want him to? Chandler's the best!

Joey: He was in Hollywood for ten years before coming home to New York. He managed to buy back his old apartment, and the one across the hall. "For the kids!" And he's famous.

Phoebe: Still married to Mike. What? I think they're cute together! And I loved their wedding. And she's still a masseuse. And crazy.

Side Characters

Carol and Susan: …Still joined.

Mike: Still married to Phoebe…

Kids

Ben: When he hit puberty, he realized that he lived with two women, both oh whom are his mothers. Therefore, he's in therapy.

Emma: A senior in high school now, seventeen-year-old Emma is the main focus of this fic. I mean, they're almost all there, but she's like…the one. Right…Anyway, she's really more Ross's daughter. She's smart and really kind of a "try-hard" at school. She does not have Rachel's old nose (thank god), and she's quite pretty, but isn't really open.

Erica: A freshman in high school, yay! She's fifteen and while she's smart, she is more preppy and one of the popular girls.

Jack: He likes sports.

Original Characters

Lynn: Well, Phoebe and Mike really wanted kids for a while, but Phoebe already did the whole pregnancy thing and she really wanted to adopt a child. So a year after the series finale, she and Mike adopted two-year-old Lynn (who would be in grade eleven). When Lynn was five, Phoebe and Mike told her about the adoption and Lynn has been okay with it.

Riley: Basically, he's the school heartthrob who has his sights set on Emma…mainly because she hates him.

_More Original Characters will be introduced later._


	2. The One With the Award

_"The One with the Award"_

Monica Bing flew down the halls, rapping on doors and walls as she passed. "Get up!" she cried happily. "Come on everybody! Wake up! Back to school in two weeks, and we've got to do some last-minute preparation!"

"No!" came the muffled shout from the room at the end of the hall.

Monica shook her head, smiling. "Not _you_, Chandler. The kids!"

There was a pause before her husband, Chandler (Muriel…shh!) Bing said, "Alright then." Monica giggled and continued to run the hallway and knock on doors.

"Get up get up getupgetupgetup—"

"ALRIGHT!" Chandler emerged from the master bedroom, his hair disheveled, his clothes rumpled, and with his usual dry wit. He walked passed Monica and headed down to the kitchen, ruffling her hair as he went.

"Okay, I'm coming in!" Monica shouted through the door of her daughter's bedroom. She rolled up her sleeves, hopped a few times on the spot, then ran at the door.

A sleepy Erica opened the door at the same time. She yawned and rubbed her eyes while Monica desperately tried to regain her balance – and fell anyway.

"Umm…it was unlocked, you know," Erica said. "Coffee, anyone?"

* * *

Rachel Geller-Green squeezed her husband's hand nervously. She watched as their daughter, sixteen-year-old Emma, calmly sat on the stage while the judges looked over the final results.

A high squeak from beside her caught her attention. Rachel quickly released Ross's hand and crossed her arms. "Sorry," she muttered.

"It's okay," Ross replied. It sounded like he was ready to cry.

"I'm just…I'm so nervous! And look how calm Emma looks, and she's the one up there!"

Ross patted her knee affectionately. "Don't worry so much," he said. "She'll win. I mean, she's really artistic."

"But Ross, those other finalists are really…preppy! God, and such sluts!"

An elderly woman sitting in front of them turned around to face Rachel. She didn't look too amused. "The blonde one," she said coldly, "is my granddaughter."

"Oh…well, I didn't mean _her_!" Rachel said quickly. She cleared her throat and stared up at Emma, determined not to look at anyone else.

But it was true. Emma, while she had her circle of close friends, was not one of the more popular girls at school. She had the looks and talents for it, but she enjoyed her studies and her "alone time". Much like Ross had in school, though she was not obsessing over a boy like Ross had obsessed over Rachel. She was actually quite shy in large crowds and rejected a lot of the guys who dared to ask her on a date.

"The judges have made their decision," the MC said. "The second runner up, with the 2000 gift certificate to any fashion outlet of their choice is…Carrie Knoll! Congratulations, Carrie! Now, the first runner up – who receives a trip to Paris for a full week – is…Emma Geller-Green!"

Rachel and Ross stood up and applauded as loudly as they could. Emma smiled and stared at them pointedly to sit.

"And the winner of the Design-The-Dress contest, with the 2500 Scholarship to any post-secondary fashion school of their choice, is…Diana Nicholson! Congratulations, Diana! Congratulations too to the runners up, and to all the finalists!"

* * *

"Wow, I can't believe I'm going to Paris! This is so amazing!" Emma stared at her plane tickets in awe. "This is so much better than winning the scholarship and the shopping spree."

"Really?" Rachel asked, turning around to face her daughter.

"Oh yeah. My major definitely won't be fashion designing – it won't be paleontology either, Dad – and I can't be in a mall for over an hour. And I always wanted to travel, so this will be like…wow!"

"So when is your flight?"

"Three days from now. I know it's short-notice, but Monica can get me packed quickly."

"True…what time?"

"I have to be at the airport by seven a.m."

"That's early."

"It's international."

"True. So who's coming with you?"

Emma hesitated. "Umm…pardon?"

"Well, am I coming, or is Ross?"

"There's only one ticket," Emma replied quickly. "I'm supposed to meet my guide at the gate. She'll show me everything. And she's my interpreter. So I don't have to learn any French. Yay!"

There was a long silence. "Huh," Ross said at last. "So you're…you're going to France alone. And not just France. You're going to Paris alone."

Emma said nothing. She had a sinking feeling that she would not be going to Paris at all.

"That's like…a big step in maturity."

"Dad, I'm going into grade twelve. I have my own credit card. Three of them!"

"Yes, but…Emma, it's Paris."

"The Fashion Capital—"

"The City of Romance!"

"Oh my god!" Emma snapped. "You're worried about cute French boys who know three words in English and who say them in a sexy accent? Don't you trust me? I can take care of myself! Besides, I'm like you were in high school."

Ross laughed nervously. "How-how was I in high school?"

Rachel stifled her laugh and hastily turned it into a cough. Ross blinked several times, trying to keep his eyes on the road while glaring at his wife at the same time.

"Well…apparently there was a band uniform…and teeny shorts."

Ross didn't reply, and for the rest of the trip home he pretended to ignore them.

* * *

Phoebe Buffay-Hannigan sat on her couch, drinking her seventh cup of coffee that day and watching TV. Mike and Lynn had been on a fishing trip all weekend and were due back today. Phoebe had woken at eleven a.m., had her first cup of coffee, and waited for them to burst through the door. And for every hour that they were late she'd had another cup.

Her phone rang loudly and she jumped. "Oh, mother of…ow!" she said, staring at the fresh coffee stain on her yellow blouse. "Nice." She leaned across the couch and pressed the speaker button on the phone. "Yeah?" she said.

"Phoebe?"

"Mike! Oh, yay! Where the hell are you?"

"We're just heading out now. We should be home in three hours."

"What? No! Why are you so late?"

"Hello?"

"Lynn? What happened to Mike?"

"He got scared and gave me the phone. Listen, there was a bear outside our cabin and we couldn't leave. He _just_ left."

"Oh my god! Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" Lynn laughed over the phone. "Yeah, we're fine. We didn't even have to hurt Clarence."

"Clarence?"

"I named the bear. That's a good name, right?"

"It's fine!"

"Oh, yay! Anyway, we've got to go. See you later! Bye!"

Phoebe, smiling, said her goodbye and poured herself more coffee.

* * *

And then there's Joey, over at the Bing household, teaching Jack the more important things of life.

"No, you're saying it wrong! You've got to make your voice deeper, and you have to look her up and down before you say it! Like this: Hey. How you doin'?"

"Joey, I don't think I need this." Jack smiled appreciatively and made to leave the living room, but Joey stood in his way.

"Don't need it? Listen, Jackie-Boy, you've got the looks and the talent to play sports and all…but you need the charm! You got it, but you abuse it. I don't have any kids of my own, and you're my only nephew, so I gotta learn you all I know."

"Learn me?"

Joey grinned. "It means teach you."

Jack blinked very slowly. "Alright."

"Great!" Joey clapped his hands together. "Now let's try it again."

"JACK!"

"Oh, no."

A very angry Erica stomped into the room, tightly clutching a skirt. "Jack, this was my _favorite _skirt!"

"…And?"

"And LOOK!" Erica pointed to the singed edges. "What were you trying to do?"

Joey cleared his throat, mumbled something, and quickly left the room. Jack watched him leave, hoping that it would distract Erica.

No such luck.

"Well? What were you doing?"

"I was trying to cook!" Jack said. "I wore it as an apron, and it burnt! I didn't know it was a skirt!"

"Oh, so you just decided to wear a very pink and purple flowery 'apron'? What were you thinking?"

Jack gulped and laughed nervously. "Well," he began, very slowly. "Well, I thought it would be nice if you and mom could relax…and I could cook supper once…and I was so upset when I couldn't cook right."

"Jack, you were making a grilled cheese sandwich."

"How did you know that!"

"The cheese on the tag. And you've gone supersonic again."

He hated it when that happened. His voice would go all high and squeaky and…Monica.

"Alright. I'm sorry. I'll buy you a new skirt."

"You bet your ass you will!"

He laughed. "Yeah, right. I was bluffing!"

Erica threw the skirt at his head. "If you don't buy me a skirt just like that, I'll tell Mom and Dad about how you went to third base with Johanna Muller last weekend when they were gone!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I'll tell them about how you made out with her older brother the weekend before that!"

"Call it even?"

"Okay!"

* * *

_Three days later/At the airport_

"I can't believe you're going to Paris!" Erica said, giving Emma a tight hug. "Phone me everyday! And do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Hook up with a hot French guy."

"Erica! I'm not like that!" Emma gasped, though she was grinning at the same time. "Fine, I'll try."

"Oh, yay! Alright, see you in a week."

Emma gave everyone else their hugs and kisses. "I'll call as soon as I land," she promised. "And when I get to the hotel. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

"Promise me you won't have sex," Ross said. Emma felt her jaw plummet to the floor.

"Excuse me, Father?"

"Well, it's—"

"ROSS!" Rachel hissed, stomping on his foot. "Have fun, Emma!"

"Okay, _Mom_." She waved goodbye one last time and headed toward the plane. She didn't have a first class ticket, but that was alright. She always slept on planes anyway.

In fact, she slept right through the flight – and her stop. When she woke, she knew right away that she wasn't in Paris. Especially when she heard the accent of the stewardess who helped her off the plane. And the people were dressed totally different than they should have dressed in Paris.

"Oh, my god." She stood in the middle of the crowded baggage claim, wanting to scream. "Phones!" she cried, seeing them by the washrooms.

"Finally!" Rachel said. "I hope that's Emma!" She hurriedly picked up the phone. "Hello? Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Emma, thank god! Why didn't you call when you got off?"

"Because I…I just got off the plane."

"I thought it was a straight-through trip."

"Well, for me. Paris was the first stop, and I…I slept through it."

Rachel slowly sat down on the couch. Ross looked up from the paper questioningly. "Is it Emma?" he asked.

Rachel didn't answer him. "So…so where are you?"

"I think I'm in Australia."

* * *

**A/N: Oh my god. PITIFUL chapter on my part. It was rushed and really, really the worst opening chapter I have EVER WRITTEN. The rest will be better, I promise. I wanted to introduce the characters a bit more, and just give background information to the next few…episodes.** **I also wanted you to sort of see the relationships between the characters, WHICH WILL DEVELOP AS THE CHAPTERS INCREASE IN QUALITY, I SWEAR TO GOD. Please, I already know how poorly written this chapter is. So if you review make it somewhat positive. Like, "Oh my god, Emma's in Australia! What will she do?"**


	3. The One With the Cute NearlyNaked Boy

_"The One with Cute Nearly-Naked Boy"_

"I think I'm in Australia."

Rachel slumped against the wall and slid down. "What?" she asked.

"Australia. I think I'm in…Oh my…"

"What! What!"

"Uh…Tunnel!"

"Tunnel? You're on a pay-phone!"

* * *

Emma hung up the phone and thanked the woman who'd lent her the money. An angel had floated by her while she was talking to Rachel, but not even an angel was that perfect…or that nude.

Well, he wasn't really nude…he had shorts on, but his shirt was hanging in his hands and was dripping water across the airport floor. His sand-coloured hair hung in his eyes and, at its longest tip, grazed his shoulders. Emma's mouth hung open as she watched him walk by; he was a vision of beauty, a perfect sculpture; she didn't pay heed to the guttural sounds emitting from her throat. She followed the boy, looking like she was in a trance. He skin was dark from the sun, and Emma couldn't see any tan-lines anywhere.

He stopped at the baggage claim and waited. Emma stopped beside him and occasionally glanced his way. Her single suitcase was one of the first bags off and she picked it up quickly and pretended to be waiting for more. The boy was starting to shiver. He picked up a suitcase, looked at the tag, and put it back.

Emma didn't know exactly how long they stood there, but they were two of the last people. The boy stood empty-handed (except for his soaked shirt) and looked very upset. He looked up at Emma and smiled. His eyes were a clear, ocean-blue. "They lost your trunks too?" His Australian accent was thick and quite…attractive.

Emma was aware that she should respond vocally, perhaps with something witty. _"No, I'm wearing mine,"_ is what Chandler would have said. If she said that, the boy would probably be freaked out and leave. She would just say, _"Yeah, it happens all the time."_

"No, I'm wearing mine."

_DAMN IT!_

The boy laughed. Emma felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She didn't know whether or not that laugh was good.

"No, I mean they lost your luggage."

"Yeah, I knew that. And…yeah, they lost my snowboard."

_Shut up, Emma._

The boy blinked, then shrugged. "I'm Kyle Wills." He held out his hand.

"Emma Geller. Geller-Green. Emma." She shook his hand nervously. His hand was slightly rough, and his grip was strong. Not painful, but…firm.

"Emma. You from New York?"

"Uh huh. I actually was supposed to be going to Paris, but I missed my stop."

"Oh yeah? No one woke you up?"

Emma blinked repeated, her brow furrowed. "Actually, I think they tried. Yeah, they did! Some stewardess asked me if I was staying through to Australia, and I…I nodded. Mind you, I was half-asleep, so I probably didn't even hear her…"

Kyle smiled. Emma could have melted right on the spot. "Listen, my sister lives about five hours away. I'm actually staying at her unit tonight. She's a bit of a battler, but she's got a phone and I can pay for the long-distance."

Emma had no idea what a 'battler' was, but she wasn't going to ask.

"Wow, that's really nice…but I should probably stay here and try to catch a plane out to New York or Paris…"

Kyle was peering at her closely. "You've never been here before, huh?"

"No…I've been to Canada!"

Kyle laughed. "Beautiful up there, huh? Is that where you snowboard?"

"I don't snow…_Yes_, yes, that is where I snowboard. And…and damn these airport people for losing my luggage! Damn them all!"

_And I went too far._

"This isn't the first time they've misplaced mine. When I was in London two years ago, they lost my trunks…luggage."

"No, I knew what you meant."

Kyle sighed and started to head out. "Look," he said, turning back to face Emma. "Chances are your folks won't be here tonight, even if they managed to get a flight out. There's a cheap motel thirty minutes away that you could spend the night in. I could drive you to it."

"Oh…really? But I don't have any money."

"That's fine. I've got some money-"

"No! I don't want to owe you money and never be able to pay."

"It's fine." He smiled at Emma again, put his arm around her shoulder, and led her out.

* * *

"Breathe!" Phoebe was saying. "Breathe, breathe, breathe…there, do you feel better?"

Ross took his face out of the paper bag. "No! She's in _Australia_! That's even worse than Paris!"

"How? How is it worse?"

"Do you know how many handsome, muscular outdoorsmen there are in Australia? She's going to hook up with some crocodile wrestler and marry him and never come home-"

"Ross, she is not you!" Phoebe said, patting Ross on the top of his head.

Monica rushed out of Ross and Rachel's bedroom and ran into the living room.

"What's wrong?" Ross said.

"Rachel's crying and throwing things. She threw your _Apatosarus _model and broke it on the door."

Ross stood up, looking like he was about to panic. "She broke Alan?"

Monica raised her eyebrows. "Okay, that's the big picture. And you name your dinosaurs?"

He sat down and avoided her eyes. "No."

"God, I would love to be in Emma's shoes right now!" Lynn said, sitting beside Ross and putting a plate of cookies on the coffee table. "Australia! That is…actually, Paris is more appealing. But god, she is so lucky! Everything good happens to her! She wins the Paris trip, she's a good artist, Riley Davidson has a crush on her, she's in three Advanced Placement courses-"

"What?" Ross exclaimed, his voice rising a few octaves.

"She's in three AP courses. Come on Ross; your intelligence genes put her there."

"No, no," Erica said, patting her shoulder. "He means Riley Davidson liking her. And don't worry Ross, because she loathes him. It's like…like Joey and Janet."

"Janice?"

"Right."

"Oh thank god!"

* * *

**_A/N: Things you should know: I do not live in the United States of America or Australia. I live in Canada and am basing Emma's school system on the way mine works. For example, AP means Advanced Placement, which is for the smart people. So…yeah._**


End file.
